Malfoy's Transformation
by greasepolice
Summary: In his sixth year of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy begins to note peculiar changes in himself, as do all the people around him. He feels no one understands him or his pain. Will Malfoy find solace in unexpected places? DMGW
1. A New Year

A New Year

* * *

Malfoy breathed heavily. He was feeling strange, but he wasn't quite sure whether he was sick or not. And what was with this profuse perspiration? Something was happening to him… almost like… a transformation. Maybe it was puberty. He was entering his sixth year of school, it was about time.

"Oh god,' he drawled. 'I must stop thinking these ridiculous thoughts.' He shook his head quickly and felt his sweat fly greasily across the train compartment. He exhaled sharply and sat down on the leather seats. He felt the seat become moist.

He was alone for the time being, sitting on the Hogwarts Express, and waiting for Crabbe, Goyle or any of his other cronies to arrive.

Just at that moment the door of the compartment slid open. Malfoy's eyes, which had been slowly drooping, suddenly snapped up to the door.

'Why, hello ladies,' he greased suggestively.

"Malfoy,' said Hermione, 'Eyes are up here.'

"Oh, sorry.' Malfoy said, rather embarrassed. His attention turned to the foxy little minx standing net to Hermione. This was the specimen he was particularly fond of.

"Ah, Ginny Weasley. How pleasant to see you.'

'Malfoy, you slimy ball of oil.' Ginny spat. 'Goodbye!'

The two Gryffindor lasses (for that was what they now were) spat on Malfoy and strutted out of the compartment, yelling blasphemies.

Malfoy sighed, and buried his face in his hands. He would never find a soul mate… especially with this highly unusual condition he had started to develop over the summer. He wiped the strangely thick sweat off his brow and lay back on the leather seat, panting slightly. At that moment, another person entered the compartment.

It was Pansy Parkinson.

"Draco,' she purred. 'My love.'

Malfoy sighed. 'Pansy,' he muttered, 'Get over here.'

Pansy strutted over, flaunting her 'hot' body. They engaged in fellatio. Then the act of sexual intercourse was carried out, albeit briefly, as Malfoy was not feeling particularly frisky that day. It is also worth noting that he was not particularly interested in Pansy, he just needed to relieve his tension.

'Leave me Pansy,' he sighed dramatically. 'I wish to be alone.'

Pansy strutted out, flaunting her 'hot' body.

Malfoy once again lay back, and found himself thinking once more about Ginny, that small beacon of hope, in his inexplicably dark, and undeniably, greasy, life. He felt that she was the only one who he could ever love. This thought disgusted him, as he didn't believe she was good enough for him, but suddenly there was a change, a transformation if you will, and she was like a goddess to him.

'Yummy,' he accidentally blurted out while thinking about his ginger goddess.

Meanwhile in another cabin, Harry and Ginny were chatting animatedly and displaying subtle signs of affection such as touching each other's arms while laughing.

'Oh, you,' Ginny giggled, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

Harry laughed in the most macho way he could, which wasn't very macho. He then pursed his lips, squinted his eyes and leaned into Ginny while making weird squidgy noises. Ginny was alarmed at this weird behaviour and gasped.

Just then, Ron made an untimely entrance into the compartment. 'Blimey Harry! What d'you fink you're doing to my sister?'

Harry withdrew from his strange position and shifted his glasses uncomfortably. 'Uh, sorry Ron, I didn't mean anything…' Harry spluttered nervously, sneezing in that way that he does when he is embarrassed.

Ron huffed and he puffed and he almost blew the compartment down. 'Is that right?' he said angrily, turning red, always a dangerous sign.

'Ron, no!' Ginny cried as the large alpha-ginge threw himself at the small, nerdy boy with the scar.

Then Hermione entered the cabin and rolled her eyes at the site before her. She said a spell, as she does, and everything was good again. They sat down and chatted about Malfoy and his greasy ways.

And so the scarlet steam engine continued to wind its way through the countryside, full of angst-ridden teens on their way to yet another school year at Hogwarts.

* * *

Please comment and tell us what you think! Suggestions welcome! Chapter II is already written so it should be up by next week!

Mwazzies!

-The Grease Police


	2. Ch Ch Changes

Ch-Ch-Changes

* * *

The Great Hall bustled with life and excitement as the students took their seats at the four house tables. 

Malfoy sat down, slightly apart from the rest of his peers; his slimy excretion was raising eyebrows. He munched on a celery stick miserably as he watched McGonagall place the Sorting Hat on the wooden stool in front of the teacher's table. He was also getting weird glances because of his celery, as food was yet to be served.

Silence fell as Dumbledore raised his hand and the lights dimmed dramatically, to a soft romantic glow. The romantic glow illuminated the Weasley girl; Malfoy could barely control himself from leaping upon her as though she was a cake and he was a fat boy.

A single spotlight fell on the ragged hat, and a mouth appeared. The clothing accessory began to sing.

'Welcome all to the school today,

I wish you well and I say 'hey,

What a wonderful time today,

Where we can learn to work and play,

And get along with each other,'

So basically there are four houses, yeah?

In Hufflepuff they do play fair,

But count yourself lucky if you're not sorted there,

In Ravenclaw they are quite bright,

But they all wear glasses and have bad eye-sight,

In Slytherin they are a slimy lot,

And kind to things, they are not,

And now we come to Gryffindor,

Can you hear that lion roar?

Obviously the only house anyone likes,

It's got Harry Potter: cool, but Hermione: what a dyke.

There is no debate of the coolest house,

So three quarters of you lot are screwed.

Anyway pop me on your head and I'll sort you out real good.'

The hall filled with applause, and Hermione clapped particularly loudly. Food suddenly appeared on the table.

"Good insight this year, eh?" Ron mused as he stuffed a whole chicken into his mouth.

Ginny was distracted. She stared across the Great Hall at Malfoy. He looked sad. She also couldn't help noticing that he appeared to be tinged a slightly green colour. And was still sliming up the place.

The feast went on, with everybody trying to avert their eyes from Malfoy and his… condition. He had now quite obviously become a greeny-yellowy sort of colour, and there was a pool of slime around him. He began to retch and everyone moved away in disgust, expecting him to vomit any second – everyone except Ginny, that is. Though, she was on the other side of the hall so that wasn't that amazing.

However, she had a weird feeling in her stomach as she stared at the poor, defenceless, slimy boy. She could almost feel his pain. Poor greasy.

Malfoy was feeling more and more dejected by the minute. He moodily prodded his cabbage and then, not feeling you could stand it anymore, dropped his knife and fork, and left the Great Hall, sobbing hysterically. Everybody continued to avert their eyes and eat their meals in a placid way.

Malfoy sprinted the entire way to the dungeons and burst into the dormitory, panting wildly. He fell to the floor with his hands over his face. He felt like he was swelling up, rather like a large, greeny-yellowy, greasy balloon. Then the pain stopped.

'Oh,' he said out loud, to himself, though he was not insane.

He walked over to his private full length mirror and looked himself up and down. Was it his imagination, or was he looking slightly… swollen? His cheeks seemed to be drooping slightly, as though the weight was too much for them, and his robes certainly felt and looked a lot tighter.

He gulped nervously and took off his clothes. Then he smiled to himself. At least this swelling had caused some good. Chuckling in a wicked way to himself, he decided that he was now going to go to sleep… naked. He slid into bed… and slid out again. This slime was getting to be quite a hassle.

'Ah well,' he thought, 'I guess I may as well just stay on the floor, that's where I'd end up anyway with all this bloody slime.'

He lay on the hard wooden boards, panting with the effort of falling out of bed. Gravity had done most of the work but he'd chipped in. Suddenly, he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

'What ever could that be?' he muttered to himself and turned to look. It was directly beneath Crabbe and Goyles' luxury queen-sized four poster bed.

He slimed across the floor and reached underneath the furniture. What he pulled out made him gasp with alarm and secrete some more greasy sweat.

It appeared to be Crabbe and Goyles' private pornography collection.

'Oh my,' he said. 'We are in trouble, aren't we?'

* * *

Until next time! Reviews would be MUCH APPRECIATED. 

Mwazzies!

-The Grease Police


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